


A Duck Of His Word

by ohthewhomanity (katzsoa)



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Family, Gen, Lena is discussed but not actually there, Parenthood, Post-Finale, Sad and Happy, all that good stuff, ducks that I get too emotional over for my own good, grief of a sort, or is she?, post-season 01 finale, spoilers for The Shadow War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15729519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katzsoa/pseuds/ohthewhomanity
Summary: “I’m sorry about Lena. It’s never easy to find out that someone you thought was a friend wasn’t even a real person.” “But she WAS real!” Immediately after The Shadow War, Scrooge and Webby have a much-needed heart-to-heart. Alternate titles: "Apology Accepted," "His Side of the Bargain," "Leftover Shadows," and "Grief and Guilt of Both the Deserved and Unmerited Sort".





	A Duck Of His Word

The hours immediately following what Scrooge McDuck would later refer to in his autobiographical notes as “The Shadow War” were, for lack of a better phrase, like a hurricane.

There was the immediate post-battle so-relieved-to-be-alive midnight swim in the Money Bin, the obligatory though unusually positive-toned press conference, the retrieval of the Gizmoduck suit, the attempts to dredge up what few pieces of Donald’s boat they could find, and Mrs. Beakley’s aghast lecture about how her boss had somehow completely filled his mansion with pizza boxes in the short time he’d been alone – and then the sun was poking out from over the horizon, and Donald was insisting that enough was enough, the kids needed _sleep._

Scrooge happily sat through three rounds of duckling good-night wishes and hugs, and turned around for a fourth – which did not appear. That was when he realized that, at some point in the previous hour, Webby had slipped away. Likely she’d already gone to bed.

Which wouldn’t be a problem, except… there was something he had to say to her. Or rather, there was something that he had said, that he needed to take back.

Half his brain told him to let her go, to just go to bed himself, and they’d have a chance to talk in the morning.

And then the other half of his brain chimed in with _oh, go talk to her, you kilt-clad coward, if you don’t do it now you’ll only find a way to avoid apologizing in the morning_.

Scrooge had already begun walking before he realized, to his great embarrassment, that he didn’t actually know where Webby slept.

Beakley, to her credit, did not comment on this when he asked her. She also did not comment on how he asked the question with his face conveniently hidden from her view by the mountain of pizza boxes she was in the process of dismantling.

“In the loft over the second library in the east wing,” she said with her usual inscrutable expression – which, once Scrooge was safely down the hall, shifted into a small smile.

* * *

 

Naturally, the first thing that caught his attention in the room below the loft was the elaborate corkboard. Scrooge found himself once again impressed by Webby’s attention to detail, and flattered by the attention she’d paid him and his family history through all those years that he had been barely aware of her presence in the mansion. Little Agent 22 had her grandmother’s research skills. He only noticed one incorrect connection on the board – which he took a moment to fix, half in the name of accuracy, and half out of a desire to give her a new mystery to notice and pursue. A present from an uncle to a niece.

Which reminded him why he was really here in Webby’s room, and so he turned away from the board and climbed up the ladder.

Scrooge poked his top hat, closely followed by the rest of his head, into the lamp-lit loft, where he saw Webby sitting on her bed, already in pastel-pink pajamas but evidently not yet ready for sleep. She was looking at her hands, or rather at something in her hands, small enough to be hidden from Scrooge’s view from the ladder. Her eyes flickered towards Scrooge as he emerged.

“Mind if I come in?” said Scrooge.

If Webby was at all surprised, excited, or otherwise geeking out because Scrooge McDuck was in her bedroom for literally the first time ever, she didn’t show it.

“Sure, come on in,” she said, continuing to slowly fiddle with whatever it was in her hands.

Scrooge surmounted the ladder and walked over to sit on the bed next to Webby, casting a not-so-subtle glance at the thing in her grasp: the little bracelet made out of colorful string. A “friendship bracelet.” Scrooge hadn’t paid much attention, but he was pretty sure that both Webby and Lena had worn one of those at one point. And the trinket had shown some strange magical connection to the shadow-girl during the fight in the Money Bin. And now it held all of Webby’s attention.

“Are you alright, Webby?” Scrooge asked.

“Me? I’m fine. Another day, another adventure, another force of evil defeated, and everyone’s back home where they belong. Everything’s fine, everyone’s fine, I’m fine.”

The words spilled out of her in a tone of voice that one might mistake for cheerful, if one didn’t know Webby’s usual level of exuberance. This was… sedate. A Webby-typical ramble, but with a touch of melancholy.

And from the way she was caressing that bracelet, Scrooge thought he knew why. So the apology that came out of his mouth was not the one he had intended to say, but one that was a little easier for him to bring up.

“I’m sorry about Lena,” said Scrooge. “An adventurer runs into all kinds of changelings and specters and the like, now and again. It’s part of the whole ‘solving mysteries’ element. But it’s never easy to find out that someone you thought was a friend wasn’t even a real person.”

“But she WAS real!” Webby wasn’t aware of having told her feet to move, but there she was, standing on the bed, at eye level with Scrooge. Suddenly shouting at him, just like the boys had. But right now she didn’t care, and he let her.

“Lena was real,” she said again. “She’d sit right there –” she pointed at the bed, right by Scrooge’s lap “– and listen while I told her all about you and our adventures and whatever else I wanted to talk about. She was always there to listen, and that was real!

“And we had all kinds of adventures of our own, too! We were Beagle Birds, that was real, and we found the Terra-Firmians – and they were real, too, no matter what Huey said – and we fought a real sword horse and defeated a money shark with the magic of friendship, even though Lena didn’t believe that was a thing, it was totally real, and she was brilliant and creative and real! She had a real beautiful smile and gave real warm hugs and she slept in a real bed in a secret chamber under the amphitheater where she lived all alone and I didn’t even know about that until today –”

Webby broke off, looking down at the bracelet crushed in her fist, not noticing the way Scrooge’s sympathetic expression had sharpened into something else at the mention of where Lena had lived.

“I didn’t know,” said Webby, in a much quieter voice. “I’m... I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, lass,” said Scrooge. “You might just be the most brilliant girl your age in the world.”

“What kind of brilliant girl doesn’t even notice that her best friend is homeless?!” Webby plopped down onto the bed again, cradling the bracelet to her chest.

“That’s not your job,” said Scrooge. “I’m all for self-reliance, of course, but you’re a _child_ , Webbigail. Your job – until I can convince you and the boys to get a real one, and the law to allow it – is to have fun and tell stories and learn all you can about the world, not to worry about whether or not you and your friends have a home to go to at night. That’s the job of a grown-up. It’s for people like your grandmother and Donald to worry about, and… it’s my job, too.”

Scrooge sighed, taking off his hat and setting it on a nearby bedpost. “I know I don’t have the best track record at noticing what children need and… and keeping them safe. You children deserve better than that.”

Webby’s vision was all blurry. She rubbed at her eyes, but it didn’t seem to do anything other than make her sleeve wet.

“Lena was a child, too,” she said. “I know she was a shadow, but if Magica brought her to life right after you fought her fifteen years ago… She was a child.”

“That she was,” said Scrooge. “All those times she was here in my house… It was my job to notice that she needed help. Before it got this far. But I didn’t.”

He looked down at Webby with just his eyes, not feeling up to turning his whole head. “I’d understand if you blamed me for her fate, too. On top of… you know… everything else.”

“I don’t blame you for anything,” said Webby. “I got angry because the boys were hurt. I didn’t want them to leave, and I tried to get them to come back right away. We’re all better off together than apart. Family’s more important than any fight.”

Scrooge shook his head in a kind of sad amazement. “Webby… I’m sorry I ever said you weren’t family.”

Webby sat up. “You’re my uncle.” She put her arms around his middle, letting her head rest against his side. “I don’t care what you did.”

Scrooge returned the sideways hug. “As much as I appreciate this, you might just be too forgiving for your own good.”

Webby let out a sniffly giggle. “Yeah, Lena thought so, too. I think a lot of the time people deserve it more than they think they do.”

Scrooge tightened the hug for a moment before letting go. “We really ought to be getting to bed,” he said with a yawn as he stood and retrieved his hat. “Would you like me to get the lamp?”

“Sure, thanks.” Webby lay back against the pillow, tying the friendship bracelet around her wrist again nice and tight for safe-keeping before pulling up the covers. “Goodnight, Uncle Scrooge.”

“Goodnight, Webby.”

As Scrooge lifted a hand to turn off the light, he looked back one more time at his honorary niece, tucked safely into bed. She was never so still during the day; even to a duck so focused on hard work, it was good to see her in a state of rest.

Then he flipped the switch – and in the instant before the room darkened, Scrooge thought he saw a flicker of movement on the bed. It was as though Webby’s shadow, just a sliver of horizontal darkness on the wall, suddenly took on a pale blue shimmer and reached out to wrap a gentle, protective arm around Webby’s near-sleeping figure.

And then the lights were out, the shadow was gone, and Scrooge couldn’t say that its movement hadn’t just been his imagination. Yes, his mind was probably still jumpy after facing so many living shadows. Not even Scrooge McDuck could come out of being stuck in his own number-one dime without getting a little jumbled.

Nevertheless, as Scrooge climbed back down from the loft, he made a quiet resolution to keep an eye on shadows from here on out, particularly Webby’s. Just on the off chance there was something to it.

After all, he thought as he walked off through his mansion, he’d promised Lena a place in his family if she helped him get it back, hadn’t he? And here he was, with his family restored, and with every intention of keeping his side of the bargain.

**Author's Note:**

> #LenaDeservesBetter


End file.
